so it's in the readmore

We’ve talked a lot about the repeated deaths, but that’s not all that can happen in this kind of situation. What kind of injuries do you think the IPRE dealt with until the year was up and they were reset?

Magnus loses an arm. It’s an early cycle and he shouldn’t have had to make that kind of sacrifice, but he did it to help someone else and no one is really surprised. No one knows what to do - should they offer to help him with things? Would that be insulting? When Magnus comes far too close to losing his other arm in the same year, he learns to ask for help when he needs it.

Merle is too close to an explosion and loses his hearing. Lucretia offers him one of her notebooks, and it’s both a wonderful idea and a mistake because he uses it both to communicate and to leave notes all over the ship. They’re very dad-like notes, commanding various crew members to pick up this mess or go do some chore. When they try to argue Merle just shakes his head and motions helplessly at his ears, even though they are writing him a note in return. It’s not long afterwards that they reach a world that has sign language and everyone learns the basics.

Lup has been burned, badly, but it takes a while before she lets anyone help her manage the pain because she doesn’t want to feel better when she can’t do that for Taako because he died in a fucking fire. It’s Barry who finally catches her with her guard down late one night, and he and Merle find a combination of cooling spells and herbs that make the pain (the physical pain) more bearable.

Davenport is blinded, and for a while he won’t accept any help. He’s the captain, he’ll figure it out on his own. He tries to pilot the ship with muscle memory and crashes it somewhere remote, and he just screams in frustration at losing the one thing he’s the best at, even if it’s only for a year. He’s quiet for a while, not interacting and going through the motions as well as he can, until Magnus wanders into the cockpit and asks what the big, red button is for. Davenport explains, more of the crew wander in, and he ends telling all of them about the ins and outs of their vessel. It’s a good day, and after that (both that year and after) he spends less time in the cockpit and more time with his family.

Lucretia can’t walk anymore, not easily and then not at all, so Magnus offers to give her piggyback rides everywhere she wants to go whenever she wants. Lup and Barry make her a chair (permanently levitating so that stairs aren’t an issue), but she finds she likes the company while exploring the new towns. She takes up Magnus’s offer more often than anyone expects her to.

A landslide that takes Lup catches Taako, too; he takes a serious blow to the head. When he wakes up he doesn’t speak, and doesn’t really look at anyone. But he listens to them, he can hear them, and eventually Lucretia picks up some journals and sits with him. At first she reads, but eventually she just shares interesting things that happened that day and gossip; even though his expression doesn’t change she can tell he’s enjoying the conversation from the way his ears flick around with as much movement as always. When the year is done they still gossip, but it’s never one-sided. (Except when it is, years and years later. Taako has a bad day and Lucretia offers to read to him, and he lets her. It’s a little sign that things are… better. Improving.)

One year there are days Barry hurts too much to walk on his own, and Lucretia’s chair makes a second appearance. Lup isn’t there, or Magnus or Merle, so the ship is quiet more often than not… until Taako and Barry go barreling down the hallway together clinging to the chair and targeting Davenport of Lucretia. It shouldn’t be funny but it is - one light and fun moment during a particularly bad cycle.

Sorry in advance, this is longer than I imagined it would be and also she doesn’t get flirty for a little while rip (also i didn’t include a lot of flirting rlly so)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng loves fashion. And she loves working out, being active, anything that takes her breath away.

Because of her interest in both, her dream is to start her own brand of sportswear for women (some with pockets definitely), but in the meantime, she works at her old
collège as a PE teacher and makes clothes on commission or for herself

She’s been working there for a couple of years, and she absolutely loves the kids that come through. Her students usually love her too, because she’s really understanding but also doesn’t take crap

There have been whispers, both among the students and staff, that a new maths teacher would be coming in. She brushes it off.

One day, when her students are supposed to be running laps, they’re instead in groups, chattering excitedly.

“What’s going on?” Mari asks, because she is a poor clueless babe.

They tell her that the new maths teacher’s finally here, and a few of them will be switching to his class. She’s a bit curious, because she hadn’t seen him yet. She lets her class talk a little more before telling them they can talk and walk at the same time.

While she’s watching them go, she hears the doors open behind her and turns to see if someone came late, but is surprised by the headmaster and a person she doesn’t recognize

He’s tall, has longer blond hair that’s pulled back into a short ponytail, and looks kind of lanky. She smirks as she thinks about how her parents would try to feed him their entire kitchen if they met him.

She calls out for her students to finish their warm-up laps before strutting over. The headmaster tells her she was just showing their new maths teacher around.

Said new guy smiles at her kindly and holds out his hand. She grabs it, and maybe squeezes a little too tight, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m Adrien,” he tells her. She finds it odd that he left off his last name, but introduces herself anyways.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she says, giving him a small smile. “You can address me by my last name.”

My master is very kind. He was much smaller when I first met him, and I haven’t grown like he has. He loves me all the same and he doesn’t treat me like a runt just because I’m small and I love him a lot.

He’s been sad a lot lately, water leaks from his eyes a lot and I do my best to clean it up for him and it makes him smile so I must be doing something right!

My master has always gone away for most of the day, it makes me sad but his family and all the strangers spoil me, they love to give me treats!

He has a bigger bag than usual now, he found me in it the other day and nothing I did made the water stop or made him smile. Maybe the bag is dangerous? I’ve stayed away from it.

Drarry Prompt: (8th year) Where Draco ends up holding Harry's hand every time he is scared. This comes as a surprise to both of them.

Harry gaped at Malfoy, their fingers laced together. Malfoy was staring blankly ahead, his mouth twisted in a frown. Harry was too in shock to say anything. Too confused to move. The had been in Potions, somehow paired up together again, working on their Draught of Living death, when out of nowhere, his hand had flown to Harry’s, gripping it tightly. Harry had been mid-sentence, explaining how they could have used this potion during the war. He found himself unable to finish, his thoughts lost completely. He couldn’t focus with the warmth of Malfoy’s hand in his own. Harry could feel the other boy’s heartbeat, pulsing quickly between his fingers. He swallowed.

“…Malfoy?”

///

Draco shook his head roughly, as if trying to expel the memories from his head. His eyes focused around him and he realised he was sitting in the Potions classroom.

“Malfoy…”

He turned his head, a sneer forming on his face.

“What, Potter? Can’t figure out a simple potion? The instructions are right in front of you.”

Potter looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, as he raised their joined hands. Draco spluttered, a soft blush forming on his face. He ripped his hand away like it was on fire.

“Taking advantage of me? Just wait..” He trailed off. “Nevermind.”

Neither of them spoke the rest of the class,

///

It wasn’t until a Defense Against the Dark Arts class a couple of weeks later that it happened again.

They had been standing next to each other in the semi-circle, waiting for the Boggart to approach. Everyone already knew how to cast a Patronus, but their new Professor had decided it was worth going over again. Draco glanced over at Potter and caught himself staring. He frowned. Draco didn’t know how they kept getting stuck working together. Some inter-house unity bollocks. McGonnagall had decided that after the war, the students who returned needed to get along better and be more accepting of each other. Some Hufflepuff nonsense, as far as Draco was concerned.

Suddenly, it was his turn to face off with the Boggart. He gasped as it shifted and morphed in front of him, and all of a sudden Potter was standing before him, a cruel smile twisting his face. He reached for Potter’s hand, gripping it tightly.

///

Harry couldn’t move, save for his eyes darting back and forth between Malfoy and the imposter standing in front of him. He vaguely registered that Malfoy was clutching his hand tightly, but he couldn’t focus on that. Why was he Malfoy’s boggart? And then the Boggart Harry started talking.

“I can’t believe I saved you. I should have let you die in that fire. Should have let you die on that bathroom floor. Should have finished the job then.”

Harry noticed Malfoy start shaking, and then realised his own was shaking. He looked down and saw they were holding hands again. When did that happen? He tried to let go, but Malfoy was holding on so tightly he didn’t stand a chance.

“You weren’t worth saving! You just went right back to join Voldemort, then slinked away with your family, your tails between your legs. What good have you done since?”

Harry shook his head and stepped forward, catching the attention of the Boggart, as it changed again, this time into a Dementor. Harry sighed, shaking his head. Of course it was still the same, he still couldn’t get over that fear. The fear of fear itself, as Lupin had said.

“RIDDIKULUS”

The room was silent as the Boggart moved on, and Harry tugged on his hand that was joined with Malfoy’s.

“You know, I don’t regret saving you, right?” He said quietly.

Malfoy finally met his eyes and shook his head slowly, after some time dropping his hand to his side.

///

One week later, walking with Potter and Pansy in between classes, Draco was pushed against a wall. He turned around to face his attacker and it was some Hufflepuff Eighth Year. He didn’t know his name, but he knew his face. They shared most of their classes together. He didn’t even have time to reach for his wand before the larger boy had his out and pressed against his chest.

“You know, nobody would mind if I just hexed you right here. You shouldn’t have come back. No one wants you here.”

Draco closed his eyes and flinched, not able to defend himself, preparing for the worst.

///

Justin Finch-Fletchly? When had he developed such a mean streak? Harry started to protest, stepping closer to Malfoy, his hand reaching for his wand, when suddenly it was full of something. He looked down. Malfoy had grabbed his hand. Again. He couldn’t help the smile that started to form on his face, before he brought his attention back to Justin.

“You and I both know what will happen if you do that, and I don’t think you want to fight me.” He started, magic flaring in his veins. Justin’s eyes went wide, and he stepped back, shaking his head. “Whatever, Harry. He’s not worth it, anyway.”

As Justin walked off, Pansy turned to Malfoy.

“I can’t believe you were just going to take it, You didn’t deserve that! Everyone knows the position you were put in, they basically put your entire trial in the Prophet!” She sighed. “Come on, Draco. Let’s go to class.”

As they turned to walk away, Malfoy tugged Harry along. Either he didn’t realise he was still holding on, or he didn’t want to let go. Harry didn’t mind either way.

///

Eighth years from every house sat huddled together in their shared common room. It was Halloween and somehow Pansy had convinced Draco to participate in the movie night they were having. Some Gryffindor had brought a muggle movie in and Granger had figured out how to make it work without a… television? Whatever that was.

He somehow found himself on the couch, sitting next to Potter, Weasley on his other side. It didn’t bother him as much as he expected.

///

Harry could feel the heat of Malfoy’s body, his leg pressing against his, but for some reason he didn’t want to move it away. Seamus had brought in Nightmare on Elm street. Harry had heard his cousin talking about it with his friends once, but he had never been able to see it. Thank Merlin Hermione was clever and fixed it so everyone could watch.

He looked over at Malfoy, He had started growing out his hair more, it hung loosely around his face, kissing his cheeks. Harry blushed. He did not think of Malfoy and kissing in the same sentence. He didn’t.

He couldn’t focus the entire movie. He knew there was something going on with this guy going into dreams, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Malfoy. He was so present next to him, he couldn’t stop thinking of their thighs pressing together, their feet resting against each other. He was so preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice when Malfoy’s hand found his, gripping it tightly. He was too busy watching Malfoy’s face, watching his eyebrows shoot into his hair in shock. He swallowed and turned to face the movie, unconsciously stroking the other boy’s hand with his thumb.

///

“Um.. Malfoy?” Harry finally got his attention, after standing nearby for a few minutes, unsure what to say.

“Yes, Potter? Here to harass me?” He looked up from his book and raised his eyebrow at Harry.

“What’s going on? I mean, with the hand holding? Hermione is making me talk to you. I told her to mind her own business, but then Ron and Neville ganged up on me, too. Um.”

Malfoy scoffed.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you should go.”

“I… don’t mind.” Harry struggled to get out. “The hand holding, I mean. I just don’t understand. You hate me.”

Malfoy just stared at him. Harry stood there for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded sharply.

“Right, then. Right. Okay.”

He turned and rushed out of the library.

///

Draco caught up to Potter near the Great Hall.

“Wait!” He called out, coming to a stop a few feet behind him. “I… I don’t know. The hand thing. It just happened. And then again.”

Harry turned and frowned.

“So, what?”

“I mean, I don’t hate you.” Draco forced out. “I don’t think I ever did, not really. I think I was just angry. And jealous. And, well. I don’t think Pansy understands. What I had to go through. What you went through.”

Harry tilted his head to one side. Draco thought he looked like a confused puppy, and shoved down the thought that it was slightly adorable.

“But, why?”

Draco sighed.

“I’m not sure. That potions class. It’s like I was back in the war. You were talking about it and then I was there. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. And Defense? That boggart-” Draco clenched his jaw and looked away.

Harry stepped closer.

“It’s okay, you know. To be scared?”

Draco frowned.

“I’m not! Why would I be scared, Potter?”

“Draco…”

His head snapped up at Harry’s use of his name.

Harry held out his hand and Draco took it, a slow grin forming on his face. Together, they walked into the Great Hall.

We heard from the staff before, if I'm not mistaken, that Lotor's aim was to catch the attention of his father and gain his approval/love. How do you see this stand after S4 has unfolded? As soon as he turned away from Zarkon when he was kicked out, his face showed he actually didn't mind at all. He put on a front for Zarkon, saying 'please keep me with you', but then it looked like it served his plans to be fired. How do we reconcile this with what the staff said of Lotor's motivations?

So some of my friends had a great thing to say that Lotor is a method actor. That is to say, every time we see him putting on a show, there’s an element of sincerity behind it.

Has Batman ever had encounters with Harley and Ivy as Bruce Wayne? Would he ever try using that part of his identity to help them or any other of his rogues, for things like trying to start a new life away from villainy and such?

Someone was in Bruce Wayne’s office, and there was no graceful way to avoid them without making it obvious that he knew they were in there. There was a smell in the air like mulch and roses.

He had no frame of reference for what would constitute a normal amount of things to notice, and so chose to err on the side of oblivious moron.

If there’d been a smell like marzipan dipped in bleach, he might have chosen differently.

“Heya, Mister Wayne,” Harley Quinn greeted, sitting on his desk. She waved as much with her feet as her hands. He closed the door behind him.

Bruce considered his response. Hopefully his momentary indecision with regard to his facial expression could pass for surprise, or confusion, or fear. “Hello, Dr. Quinzel.”

So I decided to make a tutorial/guide thing on all the wonderful selection tools that are available to you in sai. Its very basic and is meant for people who are beginners or just aren’t familiar with the selection tools.

Jake and Amy desperately trying to find another couple to double date with but let's be honest they don't have friends outside of work and everyone they work with is really weird on dates.

ok!!! this Seriously got away from me…like almost 1k words got away from me but !! i can’t help it if these Dorks have such weird friends, thanks for this amazing prompt <3

charles is the first to suggest that they go on a double date with him and genevieve the day after genevieve is exonerated and by suggest i mean he reveals to jake a 17 page plan of how he wants the night going down. jake reminds charles that, no, that would be Weird and too soon. he also has to burn the plan in case amy somehow finds it and gets turned on at how thorough the planning is

nevertheless it doesn’t take charles long to wear jake and amy down with his relentless pestering and they eventually accept his invitation to a double date and even let him choose the restaurant because “it’ll be nice to go out to somewhere other than shaw’s” amy says

a big mistake. charles takes them to a Dinner in the Dark experience and it is only once he has very narrowly convinced jake that there is nothing overtly sexual about being blindfolded while eating dinner - “the loss of one sense accentuates the remaining senses bringing about the greatest physical pleasure the human body can experience, jake!” - that they even sit down. yet the first course hasn’t even been served before charles somehow inquires about jake and amy’s sex life and is recommending them positions; before he’s even taken his blindfold off jake knows that the tips of amy’s ears have turned bright red and that they have to escape this hell. charles and genevieve are too into each other (and also u kno. too blindfolded) to notice jake and amy quietly leave the restaurant to go have a beer at shaw’s instead

a more recent double date with rosa and pimento lasts a lot longer than the charles incident in that jake, amy, and rosa just drink in mostly silence while pimento regales of his time spent in the prison in uzbekistan. he only threatens to kill amy twice so jake takes it as win, even if amy is gripping his hand extremely tightly beneath the table and edging closer to him every time pimento raises his voice until she’s basically curled into him

holt and kevin invite jake and amy over to dinner to celebrate her passing of the sergeant’s exam. jake doesn’t think that going to your boss’ house for dinner remotely counts as a date but amy enthusiastically insists that it is and buys a new dress especially (she worries as they leave the apartment that it’s too low cut for such a Momentous and Formal occasion such as this but jake is quick to assure her that in his professional opinion he doesn’t think so). it’s only slightly weird when amy addresses holt as “sire” and not so subtly bows to him when he answers the door. it’s very weird when amy and kevin get so into talking about the hellenistic kingdoms of the ancient world that jake very seriously worries that amy is going to leave him for kevin

late one night in bed amy compiles a list of potential double date couples because “i read it’s healthy to socialise more often with our friends and beneficial to see what the dynamics of other couples are like, babe!” and also because when she puts her mind to something, she puts her mind to it

jake says immediately says no to kylie and her gf because he says he’s already been roasted enough by amy for thinking that the sea of tranquility was a place on earth

he also says no to their next door neighbours because “gross! we’ve heard them boink through the walls, ames!” amy worries that that reason might work vice versa too and immediately crosses them off the list

amy contemplates writing down terry and sharon but then she remembers the whole telling cagney and lacey that ‘orgasms is another word for oranges’ incident and decides it’s going to be at least another month before she can look sharon in the eye again

amy promptly sets the list down on her bedside table and places her ShoulderNova in its protective box before admitting defeat with a sigh and settling under the covers. at that, jake turns on his side to face her because a Defeated Santiago Sigh is one of his least favourite sounds - even if it is over something as trivial as the realm of double dating - and, with an arm laying loosely over her torso, he tells her that they’re really only setting themselves up for failure because no date can ever beat a date when it’s just them, even if it is just a tuesday night on their couch watching jeopardy. amy agrees and her heart flutters maybe a little

amy doesn’t need to be reminded about their disastrous track record of double dates - what with their friends, and sophia and teddy, and teddy and rachel - but jake does anyway as they travel on the very romantic new york subway to the met where they are both equally and unashamedly excited to visit the exhibition Crime Stories: Photography and Foul Play as a date. amy holds her boyfriend’s hand as they walk up the steps of the met because she can and because none of their weird friends can inadvertently ruin her spending time with him

(maybe this is where they end up happening to have the perfect double date in the cafe with a certain knope-wyatt couple??? Who Knows)

Is it strange that this one made me think of caravan life with the twins? Because that’s what I thought of - the chaotic life of two kids on the road, around some probably not-so-great role models sometimes. Not what the song is actually about, I’m sure, but that was my first thought when I listened so I ran with it.

Again not super sure on all of the lyrics but what can you do, it’s a good song and I obviously didn’t stick too close to the lyrics anyway.

~~~

And fake sounds and plastic feelings / Freckles and skin’s all peeling / Soon comes the night when I go home

So I will lay the table but I will not sing / I will not sing

The caravan had stopped for the evening, and Lup collapsed onto the grass next to Taako, recently freed of responsibilities after lighting a few fires around the camp and setting up tents. Three weeks, and three weeks left to go. And then she wouldn’t have Eddie, the big human guy who managed the horses, ordering her around all the time.

Taako glanced over at her from where he was stirring something in a big pot and smirked. “What was it this time?”

Lup took a deep breath and puffed up her chest from where she was laying on the ground, enacting her best impression of someone with unreasonably large muscles. “Hey, squirt, you better look like lifting your own weight in supplies or it’s not worth hauling you around.” She growled out the words in a poor imitation of Eddie’s gruff voice. Taako giggled.

“Just throw a fireball at him next time, isn’t that how you solve all of your problems?”

“You wanna get left in the middle of nowhere? Besides,” she said, puffing up her chest again, “I’m a big strong man who doesn’t understand fire or how to start them because all of my brains melted into my enormous, hulking muscles while I was working out one day and now I can’t even figure out why Mei won’t swoon for me.”

“Lup.” Taako’s tone was miles away from the laughter she’d expected, and she sat up. Eddie was dangerously close – he was too far away to hear what she’d said, but he could probably guess that she was mocking someone, and that the someone was most likely him. He was scowling in their direction and walking closer.

“Hi, Eddie,” Taako said when the man was looming over him.

“Evenin’ shorty, shrimp,” he answered, looking from Taako to Lup. “What’re the two of you laughin’ about over here? I wanna hear the joke.”

Taako looked over at Lup with what she could tell was false hesitance. He had a plan. “I probably shouldn’t tell a lot of people about this, it’s kind of private…”

Eddie frowned. “Out with it.”

“Well… you know how Mei and Tomlin have been spending a lot of time together lately? I think I overheard them outside of camp, and Mei was making a lot of noise. Like, too much.”

Eddie stared at him blankly.

Taako waited for a moment, but Eddie was making no progress. Lup smothered a laugh. “Because… she was faking it, maybe, because Tomlin was doing a bad job.”

Eddie got it that time, thankfully, if his grin was any indication. Lup saw Taako let out a small sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to have to spell out what two adults might be up to alone together outside of camp to a grown man. “Oh yeah? Well, what do you know.” He chuckled.

Taako made a face of obvious (fake) concern. “But you can’t tell anyone, okay? They might get embarrassed.”

“Oh don’t worry, kid, I won’t tell a soul.” He ruffled Taako’s hair before walking off, and Taako flinched and stuck out a tongue behind his back.

As soon as Eddie was out of range, Lup and Taako were grinning wickedly at each other. “You liar,” Lup said, clearly delighted.

“Aw but Lup, look at how happy I made him!” The two of them watched Eddie swagger over to Mei, who heard him out for about two seconds before slapping him across the face. Taako and Lup dissolved into giggles.

I will be 100% honest. I do not like Klance. I tend to shy away from popular ships, especially in fandoms as big and rabid as the Voltron one but what I see in Klance is what I see in every fandom that has two conventionally attractive boys with a fanbase that’s made up mostly of women in their teenage years to late 20s.

I really hate to say it but the fact is, Klance just satisfies the “hot rival yaoi” trope that has existed for years. You can overanalyze the snot out of any scene that has Lance and Keith in it and say there’s romance there, you can do that between any two characters. Now yes, Lance and Keith are more focused on, they seem to be more primary characters (and I do hope Hunk and Pidge get more screentime because they are my favorites) and therefore share more scenes together.

Their dynamic is also important to the show and to the plot. I never wanted to be the one saying “well look at the reasons why you don’t ship this character over that character” but… look at the reasons why you don’t ship this character over that character. Hunk is not conventionally attractive, he’s heavier set, darker, and fits the trope of comedy relief.

I understand why no one ships Pidge, she’s obviously very young (only recently confirmed to be 15) but why does no one focus more on her character? Why do people gravitate towards Lance angst, or Klance angst. Heck, Keith doesn’t get nearly as much individual attention as Lance.

Pidge thinks she’s lost her father and brother yet won’t stop looking for them, had to cut away pieces of her identity to sneak back into the school, and had to leave her mom all at the tender age of 14 and 15.

Shiro suffers from intense PTSD from his time as a Galran prisoner, has had non consensual body modifications done to him, keeps getting pulled back to the very place that hurt him, and may or may not be the catalyst that gets his team severely hurt not that it’s his fault, but damn straight Shiro is the kind of guy who’ll shoulder that.

Keith is an orphan, dropped out of a prestigious school for unknown(?) reasons, has an partially Galran mother, is obviously reeling from the loss of Shiro whom he respected deeply.

And Hunk? Hunk hasn’t even been given enough screentime to know what’s going on in that dude’s life.

Allura and Coran lost their entire civilization and had to wake up, no time to deal with it! They’ve lost their families! Allura had to kill the only thing she had left of her father!

Don’t get me wrong, I identify with Lance heavily and I’m not trying to diminish his pain (well, since he’s a fictional character devoid of any emotion, I’m not trying to diminish anyone who identifies with him’s pain) but I always hate it when I see when fandoms go down this path of glorifying a character or a ship or both over other characters. It gets frustrating.

I’m sorry this shifted from Klance (which I don’t hate, btw, and can ship on a good day) to my quarrels with the whole fandom. I do have more to say on Klance but I direct you to this post that talks about the disservice done to Keith in the role of Klance.

For the record, I am fine with Sheith now that Keith is confirmed 18. I am fine with Klance, Heith, Hance, Kallura, Allurance, and Hallura. I do like Shallura but am antsy about it atm due to the unspecified age, I see her as around 18 or 19 like Keith but I also age her up a couple years just in case. I am not fine with Pidge being shipped unless she has been aged-up appropriately. I’m fine with aging up. I do not ship Pidge and Shiro even with Pidge aged-up because age gaps of more than 10 years make me uncomfortable for personal reasons.

Maybe it’s just because Keith’s never really been close to people, but Keith’s pretty sure the bond he has with the team is the weirdest thing about being a part of Voltron.

Sometimes, especially just after forming Voltron, he can feel the other paladins at the edge of his thoughts if he concentrates on it. Sometimes, he can tell what the others are thinking. The thoughts just slip into his head and mix with his own, but they’re clearly not his.

It’s weird.

Since he and Hunk have started dating, their bond has only intensified. Which is fine, it’s nice to almost always feel Hunk at the edge of his mind without even having to concentrate on it and to know what he’s thinking. It’s calming, comforting.

americans didnt necessarily come home from war and say “phew, that was a good war, wanna fuck?” but rather were so surrounded by pride and prosperity that they thought the future would be ‘all uphill from here’, so lets make more of the future (beacuse people tend to manifest their vision of the future in babies, or see babies as the personification of the future, just as alfred f jones is the personifcaton of the united states)

but, the personification of the united states, mr alfred f jones, probably felt a similarly different way…

America plopped down onto a royal rounded armchair with a breath and sigh. He relaxed his tense shoulders and said “Phew,”

“that was a good war.”

His allies, whom he was sharing a waiting room with, did not seem to be as excited as he. In one corner, Britain sat on a stool leaning over and tending to an injured France, who lay collapsed on a chaise longue. Neither payed him any mind. France only pressed his ice-pack higher on his bloody forehead. England might have shot his eyes in America’s direction, without turning to fully look at him, in an unbelieving squint; it was unclear, as no one saw.

Russia, who leaned next to the tall darkwood door, patiently waiting for nothing, kept a frown to his face and sent his eyes to where the comment came from.

“Shut up America.”

“Look at your allies,” He continued.

“We’ve been devastated. War isn’t a game”

America crossed his arms and looked away from everyone, like a child.

“I was just saying that some of us haven’t gotten out very often and needed a bit of exercise.”

“Ah, the hero needed exercise…” Russia’s eyes widened mockingly.

“Stop it you two.” Britain turned his chin to his shoulder to tell them.

Then, just as America was muttering “Ungrateful prick started it” under his breath, a wooden BANG came from inside the audience chamber they were waiting outside of.

Germany was inside there, they knew, being judged by their own bosses. The four had just left the negotiations of the Allied Control Council Conference in Potsdam, Germany, and had retired to Sanssouci, where a more intimate trial would be given. They were now waiting for the final verdict just outside the room of judgement. After what they saw and heard while in there, the ACC nations could only imagine what was happening to Germany right then.

The following week the four nations were scheduled to have dinner together before their departures the next morning.

“Kinda fucked up how Germany had to split up again huh” America sloshed his drink in the warm candle-lit tavern.

“You care about the fool?” England hunched over his meal, to bring his face incredulously close to America’s.

“Fuck that Nazi,” America said, as if preposterous to think otherwise, “I just feel for him you know, its hard to split up.” He finished, shoving a forkfull of wurst into his mouth.

Russia touched an ache on his ribs and stared off to the side.

Too quickly, then, was he torn from his thoughts, as he heard a shriek from across the table.

“Get your bloody hands off of me!” England pushed America’s face until he was completely pressed against the wall of the booth.